


242 - Van McCann, Babies, & Sad Back Stories

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Cute meet, Dad Van, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 17:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: A non-requested original fic about: Van McCann’s persistent nature, a child named Jett, and princes that can’t save the day.





	242 - Van McCann, Babies, & Sad Back Stories

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Implied sexual assault/rape - not explicit, in context of Reader’s past.

There was no way anybody would know. There was no way they could know. It wasn't like your body was swelling with the tell-tale bump of a baby to be. No dramatic decline of alcohol consumption and inquisitive line of questioning. No proud partner giving away the domestic secrets. No expected pitter-patter. None of it. Who would ever predict you, at the age of twenty-two, single, and having disappeared from the social scene for a month, were pregnant?

But you were.

Nevertheless, you ventured out into the impossibly clear night with a girl you met in the support group. Penelope said her friends were good people. They could be trusted and you would be safe. So, dressed in a flowy black dress, you found yourself walking into the kitchen of a stranger's house.

"Guys, this is Y/N," Penelope introduced. 

The kitchen was small, with counters along the entire left and far wall. Sitting on the left counter was a boy with fuzzy hair and a Star Wars shirt. He smiled warmly. You wanted to know if he’d watched the trailer for The Last Jedi yet. Standing against the right hand side wall, leaning against a fridge, was a tall guy you'd seen in photos Penelope showed you. His name was Damien and she had a thing for him. Judging by the way he was grinning at her, he had one for her too. At the kitchen table was a guy with long hair, a headband, and an Adidas shirt. He waved with one hand and put more crisps in his mouth with the other. A blonde girl immediately stood to hug Penelope. Then, lucky last, was a guy with his back to you. He turned around when Penelope spoke. As the girl and Penelope hugged, the guy dropped to his knees in front of you.

"Fuck," he said. You looked down at him. He shuffled forward until he was at your feet, looking up at you with blue eyes. His left hand held a lit cigarette; was he allowed to smoke inside or did he disregard rules? How much of that could you inhale before it hurt the baby? In his right hand was an open and half consumed bottle of cheap beer. His movement drew the attention of everyone in the room.

"Ahh…?" Penelope went to say, ask, conclude. But, he was talking again.

"You are fucking beautiful. The most… You're… Jesus fucking Christ…" he said, absolutely genuinely. You watched him with equal part curiosity and confusion. "Marry me?"

When the silence in the room continued for seconds threatening to turn into a whole minute, you realised it was not a rhetorical question.

"Marry you?" you asked in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. The guy on his knees with the crystal clear blue eyes was ruining your plan for anonymity. The night was a test run for future ventures out. Who was he to make you the star of the show?

"Yes. I am so, so in love with you," he confirmed with a nod of the head.

You looked to Penelope, but she was looking at the guy with the headband. He was shrugging and eating, clearly not surprised nor concerned with his friend's behaviour.

"I promise," the guy on the ground said. You looked back to him.

"Promise what?" you replied.

"That I love you,"

"I'm not marrying you," you said with a strange laugh.

"Why?" he asked.

"I… don't know you…"

"Ah, Y/N," Penelope cut in. "This is Van… He is a very drunk romantic…"

You nodded and looked down at Van. He was still waiting for your hand in marriage.

"I'll love you when I'm sober too," he said.

"Prove it," you countered.

Van stood up, nodded, and walked from the room. Everyone silently watched him go.

"Why is he so weird?!" Penelope said.

Her friends laughed, and were introduced as Benji, Damien (you pretended to not know him), Larry and Rose. Sat at the table, you could feel the hot, embarrassment seep out of your skin. You were settled and calm and okay. Penelope was right. It could be an okay night.

…

A tap on the shoulder made you spin on the spot. You'd been talking to a girl about French philosophy in the lounge room.

"Y/N. Hey," Larry said. "Can I show you something?"

It was a phrase that made you nervous. The idea of following a boy you barely knew through a house you barely knew wasn't fantastic. But, there was softness in Larry's face and trust in Penelope's judgement. You said goodbye to the philosopher and followed Larry.

At a door that was presumably to a bedroom, he put his finger to his lips. You nodded in understanding, then followed him into the lamp-lit room. All bundled up in the bed was a sleeping Van.

"That's where he went when he left," Larry whispered. "Think he's like, sleeping it off. Sobering up."

"Right… Is he like this all the time?"

"You mean does he ask every pretty girl he meets to marry him?" Larry asked with a grin. You shrugged in a yes. "Ah… Not really. Pen's right; he is a romantic. Sappy fuck. Never seen him just… do whatever that was. Not even with girls he's dated. But yeah, don't worry about him. He's the harmless type."

You followed Larry out of the bedroom and went with him to find Penelope.

…

"You sure you want to walk alone?"

"Yeah, Pen. It's just on the corner,"

"No," she said standing up. "I'll walk you,"

"I'll walk her!" Van said, appearing beside you from seemingly nowhere. "Walk you where?"

Penelope laughed and looked at you with A Look. 

"Y/N feels a bit sick, so she's going home. Car's just around the block. Don't want her walking alone though,"

"Yeah, I'll go," Van offered again.

"You can come, but I'm coming too," Penelope said.

"No, seriously. I'm fine. Pen, you know me. If I was worried, I'd ask for help. It's a block, it's lit, it's close to here. I'll be fine. You're okay here?" you said, very sure.

She had Damien right where she wanted him. Or he had her where he wanted her. Something good, either way.

"Yeah, course. I'll probably get a lift with Rose, or whatever," she replied. Whatever meant Damien but that didn't need to be said out loud, unlike any single thought that went through Van's head.

"A girl shouldn't walk alone at night," he said. Penelope looked at you and waited for the same reaction in you that you were waiting for in her. The usual routine for friends bound together by trauma.

"No, they shouldn't, but I'm okay," you replied as you hugged Pen goodnight.

"Message me when you get in your car and when you get home,"

"Yep. You too."

Van was still standing, useless and sober.

"But I'm all sober now, so you gotta let me do something?"

"Walk me to the street," you said with a sigh. He smiled wide and took your hand in his. One final look at Penelope, and you were gone.

The walk was short and you pretended that you didn't like the feeling of his hand curled around yours and the way people glanced at you and him together. Under the streetlight outside, you stopped.

"You're a very mysterious person," Van said.

"You're not," you replied.

He grinned and nodded. "I know. Never been good at that cool stuff, you know? Like just before someone asks if I got these jeans at that new fancy place in the city. You know the one? 'Cause like, she says they're selling real expensive ones with the rips in the knees and that's fashion now. These weren't ripped when I got them, see. I just wear things 'till I can't anymore. Seems like a waste otherwise."

You look at him with a badly hidden smile, then let yourself laugh anyway. "Right."

"But you're cool without trying,"

"Sure,"

"No! Dead set. I love you. Let me walk you to your care so I know you're safe. Please?"

The scene around you was definitely not one of safety, but you didn't feel threatened. The hairs on the back of your neck weren't standing to attention. Your heart rate was normal. The parasympathetic nervous system was the dominant system. Everything was as it should have been. But, there was Van with his collarbones and freckles.

"Fine."

Van literally punched the air in celebration, then took your hand and walked you to your car. It was another short walk. Regardless, he utilised the given time to ask as many questions as he could. You dodged some, leaving them unanswered; others you replied to while watching him retain all the information about you. On the driver's side, you unlocked the old car and stood between seat and door.

"Thank you for walking me to my car," you said politely with a smirk.

"I love you. Proved I love you when I'm sober. Can we get married now?"

"You're a very, very strange sober person,"

"Nah. Just know a good thing when I see it," Van said.

"I'm not a thing."

Van's head tilted and he looked at you, then nodded. "No, you're not. You're everything."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. "Jesus… That's… You're ridiculous… Goodnight, Van."

Van stepped back, smiling. You got into the car and started it, then looked up at him. He simply gave you a self-assured wave, then walked back in the direction of the party.

…

"Y/N?”

Van's expression, one of pure happiness and excitement, did not change when you turned around. As his eyes flicked from your recognisable face to the evidence of to-be-baby and back, he didn't appear shocked or surprise. There was no confusion or request for explanation. Happy, happy Van.

You would have been surprised that he recognised you at all, but he had been madly in love with you, he said. He'd wanted to be your husband. In another life, maybe. For three weeks after the party all those months ago, you'd dreamt of Van.

"Hey... Van," you said cautiously.

"So… Do you… still not want to marry me?" You laughed out loud and looked at him astonished. He smirked. "I'm joking… Unless…" His hands were pointing from you to him.

"I'm not marrying you,"

"Right. Is it 'cause of the baby? Because I'll have you know I've always wanted kids. I'd be the best dad. And my band's doing so good, so I'm gonna heaps of money soon, see. Just don't think you're playing this smart," he argued, tapping his head at the end for extra drama. You laughed again.

"I'm sure you'll make a wonderful dad, but-"

"I will, thank you, but don't worry. I'm joking. I can take 'no' for an answer," Van said, his tone changing to a more calm one.

"Well, you can't at all… but at least you're not threating in your inability to do so," you replied.

"Honestly, it's just you. I'm still definitely in love with you. But I get it. You got other things going on," he said, pointing to your baby bump.

It should have annoyed you that Van thought the only reason you weren't buying into his romantic attempts was your pregnancy. In theory, it was fucked up. But, maybe he was right. A year ago, you would have fallen to his feet and begged him to marry you too. Things happen though. People change. Maybe Van could sense that you and he were something, just not in this world.

"Yeah," you agreed. "I do."

And, on cue, the baby started to kick. Your hands went straight to them.

"What's he doin'?"

"They," you started, Van grinned and shrugged, "…are kicking."

Van nodded and waited. The waiting got him points. Usually people touched without consent, and it made you flinch. You reached out for Van's hand and pressed it to your belly. He took a step closer and felt. The little foot collided with you and the vibration was strong against Van's palm. His face lit up.

"Oh, man! That's fuckin' amazing! That's a baby!"

You laughed. The laughing thing, it happened a lot around Van.

"Yeah… I hope so…"

As Van lost his shit over your unborn baby, you looked around the store, a convenience store on the corner of Penelope's block. The likelihood of it being a coincidence Van was there was slim.

"You going to see Pen?" you asked.

"Yeah. She home? I didn't call or nothing. Need a favour so thought I'd just show up with some chocolate," Van replied, stepping away from you.

"She's home. Yeah."

He nodded and you watched each other for a moment. A small, beautiful moment where you let yourself imagine. You snapped back to reality when the weight of the unasked questions fell heavy on your shoulders. Van hadn't asked about the baby's father. He hadn't asked why Penelope would never hand over your phone number. Hadn't asked why you didn't exist on social media. As he looked at you with those clear blue eyes that were a little bit green in the daylight, you could read the questions in his face.

"I've gotta go," you said slowly. Van nodded and stepped aside.

"It was real good to see you… And your baby,"

"Yeah, you too."

You left the store but didn't get very far.

"Y/N!" Van appeared in front of you. "I promise, I'll stop. I'll go. Just… I just need you to know I really do think you're beautiful. Like… Yeah. And, ah, I hope everything goes good with the baby. He'll be beautiful too."

They, you wanted to correct, but were lost in the moment. Van smiled and left you alone on the street.

On the bus you realised you'd not even bought the milk you had gone into the store to buy on the way home.

…

"I know he's intense, with the whole 'I love you, marry me' thing, but he'd be a really good boyfriend, Y/N,"

"It's not that easy."

Penelope sighed and it was loud and dramatic enough to be audible over the phone. "It's not, but it wouldn't be as hard as you think it would be. He'd understand. He's good. Like, really, really good,"

"Yeah, I get that. I can see that. But… I just can't. It's like what Tayla said in group, you know? It's just… When I have this baby, I don't know how I'm gonna feel? It's fucking scary. I don't need to complicate it by having someone else in the mix," you said, rubbing your temples with your fingers. A headache was coming and you'd attribute all the pain to it, but there was heartache there whether you wanted to admit it or not.

"So, when he asks about you again…?" she asked in the same sad voice she'd used last time you'd had a conversation about Van.

"Tell him I'm fine, just not… looking for anything, anyone right now, or whatever."

…

The ellipsis is an underrated piece of punctuation. The dramatic pause. The lost train of thought. Three simple dots, and there is suspense and tension and an unresolved something begging for resolution. Practically speaking, you and Van were the ellipsis - never really finished. The world wasn't surprised then, that Van knocked on Penelope's door at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday. But, you were; you'd heard he wasn't in the country. His face when you opened the door told you he was just as shocked to find you as you were to find him.

The two and a bit, almost three, years had changed him. You could remember his fluffy long hair in the convenience store. His old, torn jeans. He still had baby fat rounding his face. Then, in the doorway of an apartment that neither of you owned, he was sharp… clothes, cheekbones, and nose. He seemed taller and his hair was shorter. The blue of his eyes was still as clear and his mere existence was still causing you conflict.

You looked at each other, both unsure what the right move was, but then an interruption. A toddler at your feet staring up at him caught Van's attention. His face lit up and he crouched down

"Hey, buddy," Van said.

Jett clung to your track pants, the material all bunched up in his little fists. He looked up at you for a sign of what to do. You nodded.

"It's okay," you whispered to him. Whispering always made Jett feel safe.

He watched Van carefully, his head tilting to the side like a puppy, then he cleared his throat and it was far more dramatic sounding than it should have been. "Hi," he said.

"My name's Van. What's your name?"

"Jett,"

"Jett. That's a good name. Always thought you'd have a good name. Always knew you'd be a boy too," Van told him, glancing up at you with a smirk.

"You always knewed me?" Jett asked Van. Van's attention quickly snapped back to the child and he nodded.

Jett walked the short distance between your legs and Van. Jett reached out to touch Van's glimmering necklace. It hard for him to get to it over Van's legs.

"Can I pick him up?" Van asked you.

"He's not my pet. Ask him," you replied.

"Jett, can I pick you up so I can have a cuddle and so you can see the necklace better?" Van's voice was steady and clear. Jett looked up at you, again seeking guidance. You nodded to him, so he did the same at Van. "Yeah?" Van said happily, quickly scooping your son up. Sitting comfortably on Van's stuck out hip, Jett played with the half moon faced pendant. While Van looked at him carefully. He drew the same conclusion everyone else did. "He looks just like you,"

"Yeah. I know,"

"Lucky you, Jett," Van said to him.

"Ucky you Jett," Jett repeated.

Van chuckled then looked back at you. God, there were so many things you were both dying to say.

"Uh… Was looking for Pen?" Van asked.

"Oh. Yeah… Yeah, of course. Um, she's not here. She's been out with her mum,"

"Do you know if she'll be long?"

You heard the words in their lying form, but processed from them the truth. Could you let me in? I'll pretend to be waiting for Pen, but I just want to be near you. Van waited for an answer, like he had on his knees in the kitchen you first met in years ago.

Jett poked Van's cheek.

"Hey!" Van said playfully. Jett covered his mouth and giggled.

"Frecks," Jett explained. Van looked at you for translation.

"Freckles," you said with a wide smile. "He's got a thing for freckles. Really loves them,"

"That right? Love freckles?" Van asked Jett. Jett nodded frantically, giggled, then gently started to touch Van's face.

"Jett, you gotta be careful. No hurting," you said to him. Jett froze his arm and looked at you.

"Careful," he parroted. You nodded. "Careful Van,"

"Huh," you said.

"What?" Van asked.

"He doesn't usually learn name's so quick,"

"That's 'cause he loves me already."

You watched silently as Van smiled warmly at Jett. Jett looked him directly in the eyes, his own expression dissolving into a blank calm. His little arm unfroze, but instead of returning to the freckles it dropped to his side. Jett's whole body leant forward, and he gently kissed Van's cheek. "Careful Van," he whispered as he moved away, then settled his head on Van's shoulder and curled his hands around the material of Van's black t-shirt.

You could see Van's breathing pick up. His chest was rising and falling heavily and his eyes had gone all glassy. He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed together in painful love.

"Come on," you said as you flicked your head in the direction of inside.

Van automatically sat on Penelope's couch; he was comfortable in the space, and seemingly comfortable with children. Jett continued to play with his necklace and cling to his shirt.

"Y/N?" Van said quietly. You looked over from where you were making tea. Curse the open plan design of the apartment; there wasn't a moment to gather yourself. "I… Can I ask… or…?"

"Do you have milk and sugar?"

"Fair dash of milk. No sugar," he replied.

"Tea, Mummy?" Jett asked.

"Yeah, baby. I'm making you one. Don't worry."

"You drink tea already?" Van asked him in an amused tone. Jett repositioned himself to be sitting on Van's lap. He looked at him again, staring. Jett's hands looked extra small on Van's shoulders.

"Tea's good," Jett replied.

"It is. What else is good?"

"Moosik,"

"Music. You little legend. What else?"

Jett liked the game; he wriggled happily and failed to notice you put two mugs and one sippy cup on the coffee table.

"Mummy,"

"Yeah, she is very good," Van agreed.

"Pennylope."

It made Van laugh, which made Jett laugh, which brought a smile to your face.

"Ah-huh. She's good too. Oh man. You're class, bud. Here, have your tea."

Van helped Jett sit and reach his cup. Van took his own mug and said a thank you.

"What are the questions?" you asked Van.

He sat back and folded his legs so that the ankle of one sat on the thigh of the other. He looked at you carefully. "When we met, you didn't want to date because you were pregnant, right? Not 'cause you didn't like me,"

"You were very intense… I liked you, but you did freak me out a bit. But, yeah… It was too complicated,"

"What about after, when he was born. Pen was good and didn't tell me anything. Didn't matter what I said," Van said.

"I think that was part of it… the constant trying. I guess in one way it's admirable, but at the same time…"

"I should've just listened? Fucked off when you said?" Van finished your sentence for you. You smirked and nodded. "Yeah… I would do it different now. Maybe wait until the end of the night to ask you to marry me instead of the moment I saw you, kind of thing."

"Mummy?" Jett whispered. When he was sure you were listening, he said, "Swears." You had to hold back a laugh. He was just too adorable.

"Oh! Sorry, mate. What happens when someone swears?"

"Gotta put money in the jar," you answered, pointing to a very full jar sitting on the kitchen bench. Van walked to it, his movements tracked by Jett. He got a twenty from his wallet and held it up.

"Big money!" Jett squealed. The jar contained only coins.

"Van, you don't have to…"

Van shrugged and put the money in. Returning to the couch, he asked, "What's the money for?"

"Jett. Gets to buy a book with it when it's full. Teach him some better words to use,"

"That's cool. Genius, actually… You're gonna be dead smart, huh?"

Jett bounced happily, looking at Van with a smile.

"So… what about now?" Van asked you, picking his tea up again. You pretended to not understand. "I'm not gonna drop to my knees or anything, but… I don't know, Y/N. It's gotta mean something that years later I still have weird dreams about you. Still end up starring at the photos of you that Pen posts. You know? You've not felt any of that?"

Your internet search history of Catfish and the Bottlemen videos and interviews whispered to you like the tell-tale heart from under the floorboards. Jett finished his tea, burped, and got off the couch and walked out of the room.

"I don't know what I want," you answered quietly. It was the only full and sure truth you could offer Van.

"That's alright. We can just… hang out. Honestly, I kinda just wanna see that one in his natural habitat… What's his room like?" Van asked, pointing in the direction Jett went.

"Messy. My landlord is replacing the carpet at our place, so we're here. Trying to pack up all Jett's stuff was a nightmare."

Van chuckled and nodded. You could tell he was waiting for Jett to come back from wherever he was. He genuinely liked the kid, separate to him being yours too.

"How long you staying 'ere?"

"Only another couple of days, until Sunday."

Van looked back at you from where he was watching for Jett's return. There was noise from the next room over. Sounds of a child's chaos were unfamiliar to Van and he loved it. The spark of the unknown and the deeply, deeply wanted. The same spark he felt when he saw you for the first time.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" you asked. The words didn't even have a chance to settle in your consciousness and be considered before they hit the airwaves with such significance. Of course, Van would think it was an invitation for more.

"Yeah, sure, if you don't mind. I can help…?"

You imagined Van to be a very messy and not altogether good cook. "How 'bout you go see what he's doing? Keep him out of trouble while I get it started."

And that is how Penelope found you all. You at the kitchen bench, skin crawling with a strange anticipation for something and cutting vegetables into annoyingly perfect shapes. Van sitting on the floor of the guest room, legs stretched out and eyes wide with love. Jett with Van, switching between running trucks over Van's speedbump legs and demanding stories be read out loud to him in funny voices. All the love Van wanted you to demand of him, your son did instead. All someone had to do was ask.

While Penelope and Van cleared the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, you changed Jett into his favourite onesie. It was bright blue with bananas printed on it. Covers pulled back on the bed, he refused to get in.

"No? Why?" you asked.

"Van,"

"What about Van?"

"Say nonnight to Van," Jett explained.

"Ah… Yeah, alright. Come on."

You followed Jett back through. Standing at your feet, he looked up at you. Van was at the sink, his back turned.

"Van?" you said. Both he and Penelope turned. "Jett wants to say goodnight,"

"Yeah? Bedtime for you, hey?" Van said quietly but happily, crossing the space and kneeling down to Jett's level. Jett immediately fell into Van, letting himself get swooped up in Van's long arms. Van stood, picked up the child, and nursed him. "I like your bananas," he told him.

"Fanks. You wear them?"

"Do I wear them? These cute little onesies? Nah, mate. Don't think they make them in my size. Dead shame that. Think I'd look great," Van replied. Jett smiled at him, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do you want to go put him in bed?" you asked Van. He grinned and nodded, walking off.

"Um. Why doesn't he ever want to say goodnight to me?" Penelope asked then, drawing your attention back to her.

"Sorry, man. I don't know. Maybe you're not a novelty like Van is?"

"I guess. I'll try not to be offended. Anyway… Are we gonna, like, acknowledge the Van thing?" she asked, putting the last of the dishes away and sitting on the couch. You followed her over and sat close. With your head on her shoulder, you sighed. 

"No."

She laughed. "Yeah, thought you'd say that. I asked him about it. Says you said you'd hang out with him,"

"I didn't really say that… but… I don't know… We probably will. Jett likes him," you replied with a shrug.

"Well if Jett likes him!" Penelope said with emphasis and sarcasm as thick as the layer of Nutella on your morning toast.

Ten minutes went by of you and Penelope silently cuddled on the couch, watching something on television mindlessly. Then, it occurred to you that it was the longest you'd ever let someone new be with Jett alone. The fact was seemingly not lost on Penelope either. When you sat up and looked to the hallway, she sniggered.

"What?" you shot.

"Van's different. Jett thinks so. So do you, apparently."

Ignoring her, you got up and quietly padded through the apartment to the spare room. Van was sitting cross legged on the floor next to the bed. He was reading a picture book, but not out loud. Jett was all tucked in and fast asleep. When you tapped on the door frame, Van's head shot up. He smiled, small and warm, then unfolded himself off the floor and followed you out into the hall.

"Engaging read, is it?" you asked, pointing to the picture book. He grinned.

"Only got a couple pages in before he passed out. Had to know what happened,"

"And what happens?"

Van smirked as you leant against the wall. He took a step closer to you.

"Well… Prince reckons he's off to save the girl, you know? He's got his horse all saddled up. His swords all…" Van used his hands to demonstrate God knows what. "… swordy. Sharp and shit,"

"Right. Does he save the girl?" you asked. You were painfully aware of your son in the next room, and your best friend probably eavesdropping from the other. Regardless, you wanted… whatever was happening to happen.

"Don't know. You rudely interrupted my readin' before I got that far," Van answered, reaching out and poking you gently in the tummy. You swatted his hand away, and as he continued to talk, he threaded his fingers through yours and you fought for control. "But the way I see it is, she don't need savin'. At the start, all this bad stuff happened to her, you know, so the prince says he has to save her, but it's too late. She's saved herself already and is just livin' in her little locked away world so she don't get hurt again. He can't save her from that,"

"No, he can't," you agreed.

When had Van taken a step closer? When did your heart start to race?

"Right. So, rockin' up with his horse and sword ain't gonna do much. You know? She's already brave and strong,"

"What should he do then?" you asked.

"Dunno. Probably just bring her nice stuff like flowers and chocolate or whatever girls like,"

"Girls like vinyl records and anything off their Pinterest wishlist board," you interrupted with a grin. Van laughed.

"Right. Well, the prince should just check that and get her somethin' off it. Buy a couple dozen roses and be like 'sorry that you got hurt by the monster under the bridge, but I’m here now with some presents and I'm gonna look after you' or whatever," Van said, his voice sure and laced with amusement.

You were quiet, thinking, deciding, when a little cough came from the open doorway. Suddenly, your back was straight and your hand dropped from Van's. Sticking your head through the doorway, you waited and listened. Jett rolled over and fell back asleep. You closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar, then motioned for Van to follow you back out into the lounge.

Penelope's expression confirmed she'd been listening. It was hard to blame her; had the roles been reversed you'd have done the same.

"Stay for a tea, Van?" she asked him.

"Nah, I've gotta get going. Still got some calls to make," he replied. "Thanks for havin' me though, Pen,"

"Don't thank me. I didn't invite you. Or cook for you," she said with a shrug, and went back to watching the television and pretending to not listen.

Following Van out into the apartment block hallway, you could have sworn you heard Penelope mutter 'bye, prince,' under her breath, proceeded by a smug chuckle.

"So, ah, thanks for dinner… Thanks for letting me in at all,"

"Sorry. Yeah. No, you're welcome," you said in a string of mismatched sentiments. "Um… It was… good. I had a good night. And Jett kinda loves you," you replied.

"Does that mean we'll… hang out?"

"Yeah. Yep. Wouldn't want to deprive Jett of his new best friend," you said. It was easier to make it about your son. It was the tactic you'd used for years in many, many contexts. Van understood though. He nodded.

"No. You wouldn't. Get my number of Pen, then. Gimme a call or message," he said, tone misleadingly casual. You nodded, suddenly nervous.

In a Rick and Morty episode, you learnt that if you went inside someone's dream, and then into the dream of someone in that dream, time moved slower than normal. You could be inside the second dream for ages, and when you returned to the first, only a couple of seconds had passed. A confusing concept referencing Inception, but it still came to mind as Van watched you with hooded eyes and soft pink lips bitten by charming vampire teeth. If only you could make time slow down. If a second could last a minute, maybe you'd have enough time to figure out what the fuck to do. He didn't look like he was going to open his arms and hug you first. Whatever he'd deduced about you, whatever blanks he'd filled in, he seemed to have worked out that a lot of touching was not preferable. Still, Van's expression was hopeful and every single part of you wanted to keep that hope alive, even if you didn't know why. So, you moved first.

Van reacted to your movement immediately, and the hug was warm and comforting. It wasn't like the forced hugs you let yourself fall into in the name of seeming normal to people. It wasn't like the ones that made your skin crawl. It wasn't like the platonic, nice hugs of your family and Penelope. Van was something different.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Van said as you pulled away. You nodded, then shook your head, then nodded again. Van smirked.

"Night," you worked out to say.

He walked down the hall and disappeared down the stairwell. You went back inside.

On the couch, Penelope looked like she was going to physically explode. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" she said in a whisper-yell. You hushed her, despite it not being necessary. "Oh my god, Y/N. That was the most cheesy, gross, super fucking cliché shit I have ever heard in my entire life? Like, seriously. What the fuck. I'd expect it from Van, because he's always been a clichéd romantic piece of shit like that, but you! I'd expect better from you! Fuckin' prince can't save the girl. Jesus, Y/N. You totally bought into that, huh? Like, bet you got all hot and worked up. Wow. This is like, a thing now, huh? So much for 'never trusting a man ever again' and 'oh, I don't think I will ever want to be touched' and all that. Fuck. Wow. Just… Wow."

You stared at her with a blank expression. "Right. You done?"

"Yes,"

"Cool. I'm going to bed,"

"What?!" she whisper-squealed. "We're not going to talk about how Van fucking McCann is your Prince Charming? Like, at all?"

"No. Night, Pen,"

"Fuck you! Sleep tight!"

On an inflatable mattress, wrapped in blankets, you listened to Jett's soft breathing.

And thought about Van fucking McCann.

…

Jett made the smallest of sounds; a little gasp of excitement. He was wriggling in your arms then looked up at you. "Careful Van!" he squealed. You laughed and nodded. The sound of Jett's voice caught Van's attention. He pushed off the wall he was leaning against and waved happily at Jett. As soon as he was within a distance he judged as safe, Jett launched himself out of your arms and into Van's. Van spun him around and around, then slowed to a standing position.

"Hey," Van said to you, leaned in and kissed your cheek. His lips landed close to your jawline, and as he moved away you felt his hair brush the side of your face and it was all a little bit agonising.

"Hey."

Out the front of the café, under a pretty green umbrella, Jett sat next to Van and could barely see over the table top. He was happy though and Van read him every item on the menu. Jett pretended to know what Van was talking about.

"Got some smashed avocado on housemade rye bread," Van said.

"Oh…" Jett replied, feigning contemplation. "Rye bad,"

"Okay. Well, I doubt you know the difference between bread types, but I maybe you're smarter than me. What about activated almond muesli with honey greek yoghurt and seasonal fruit?"

"Sah-zon-al fruit, huh?"

Van laughed. "Yeah, mate. Feeling it?" Jett shook his head no. "Right. Well, what about…"

And it went on like that until Jett heard the word 'pancakes' and it was all over.

The waitress came over and took the orders, and finished by asking if you wanted any coffees or fresh juice. Before you could speak, Van was answering on behalf of you all.

"Yeah, love. Could we grab a pot of black tea for two? And a jug of that fresh orange juice you guys do. And, do you reckon you could make a little pot of tea for one, but with cooler water?"

"Yeah, I think I can do that. Thanks," she replied as she took the menus and beamed at Jett.

Van looked at you and read the stun in your face. "Fuck. Sorry. Should I- Did you-"

"No, no, it's fine. It's just… weird… Not used to having people pick up on details, I guess," you replied, smiling in an attempt to reassure him.

"Not used to people doing stuff for you, yeah?"

"Right,"

"Yeah. I get that vibe. You're very… ah, independent, I guess. But, you gotta be, so, makes sense," Van said with a shrug.

"Doggo!" Jett suddenly squealed.

A golden lab puppy had been walked into the café’s front courtyard. Jett was bouncing on the spot. Van stood, picked Jett up, then looked at you for permission. You nodded and watched them go over to the owners and ask for a pat. Jett laughed hysterically as the puppy licked at his hands and face. You got the baby wipes out, ready for his return. Van was a natural with kids; he watched carefully for potential threats and risks, but was easy going enough that fun and playfulness was guaranteed.

As they sat back in their seats, you handed Van a baby wipe and he gently cleaned Jett's hands and face, making him giggle in the process. Satisfied with his puppy interaction, Jett went back to pressing his head into Van's side and playing with Van's hand, tracing the lines on his palm.

"You said I've got to be independent; why? Why do you think I have to be?" you asked Van.

"Single mum and all that, innit," he replied quickly. There was admiration in his voice.

"What has Pen told you about me? And Jett?"

Van thought for a moment. "Told you before that she hasn't said much at all. Just that it's always just been you and him. That you're careful about who you let in. That you're smart. And I just gotta accept whatever you say or do, 'cause you know best, kind of thing,"

"Did she tell you how I met her?"

Van's face was in an unnatural neutral expression. Despite him replying with, "No. Never asked," you could see he'd figured something out. You knew he knew about Penelope, about what had happened to her. It didn't take a genius to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. But, it was a conversation for another time and another place.

The drinks arrived and Van thanked the waitress for Jett's special baby tea. Over breakfast, Van spent as much time talking to you as he did to Jett. He spoke in a warm and genuinely interested tone, not the patronising one most people used around toddlers. Van cut pancakes into small pieces and poured tea and milk and explained the premise of juice, even though both of them knew Jett knew what juice was. It was a game where Jett would say, "What?" or "Why?" or "How?" constantly, and Van would oblige and launch into animated explanations of anything Jett wanted to hear about.

Van paid for breakfast and you didn't object. Returning to the table, he picked Jett up and sat him on his shoulders. Jett's hands sat on top of Van's head and he looked around quiet and in awe. He'd never been up so high. He'd never really known someone like Van; an adult man that showered him in love and fun, but made him feel safe too. If anyone had asked Jett how he felt about Van, he would have just laughed and nodded, but deep in his little heart, there was significant love.

"You guys free for a bit longer?" Van asked as you headed out onto the street. You nodded. "Cool. There's a few cool places around that we can check out, if you want?" A second nod.

It was easier than you had anticipated to let go and have someone else control your time. From record store, to a place that sold cool baby sized boots and jackets, Van was just… warm and comforting. He'd expected you to not let him buy things for Jett, but you'd gotten over the apprehension of being on the receiving end of help and handouts long ago. Jett deserved the world, and Van wanted to give it to him.

By the time Van walked you to your car, Jett had a new teddy named Careful Van, despite Van's objections and other suggestions, a new pair of shoes, a jacket that kind of looked like Van's, and a bag of speciality candy to be consumed slowly and only with permission from you. Van wrangled Jett into his car seat and kissed his face over and over, until Jett was screaming with happiness.

With the car door closed, it was quieter. Jett was focused on his teddy, and you were standing on the sidewalk with Van. You could see the same look in his face as the one from the first night you met. He still wanted to drop to his knees.

"Thank you for today. For all his stuff. Really appreciate it," you said.

Van shook his head. "Don't mention it. I love the kid. It's easy," he replied. You nodded, unsure of what to do next. Van had his hands behind his back and was stepping from one foot to the other at a rhythmic pace. "Maybe next time though, Pen can babysit. We can do dinner or something?"

On a breath out, you replied, "Yeah. I'd like that."

Van's grin reached across his face and he was all teeth and surprise and love. His arms came around and pulled you into a hug. Pressed tight to his chest, you didn't feel trapped or afraid. It was just simple affection and the beginning of trust.

…

"I am so glad this is happening," Penelope said, sitting cross legged on your bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror. When was the last time you were so dressed up? "What do you think, Jett? Does your mum look beautiful?"

Jett looked up from where he was drawing in a sketchpad on the floor. He considered you carefully, and you smirked at the time he was taking to form an opinion. Slowly, he nodded.

"Mummy look different. Very pretty. Like T.V.," he said.

"Hear that, Y/N? You look like the girls on T.V.," Penelope said.

You walked across the room and picked up Jett. "Thank you, baby. You're all good with staying here with Pen?"

"Pennylope," Jett confirmed.

"Can we like… unteach that?" Penelope muttered, getting off the bed and walking out the room.

The doorbell rang and she was answering it before you got a chance. As soon as Jett saw Van, he was squirming, trying to get away from you. You put him on the ground and he ran over to Van, who scooped him up in one arm, as his other was holding a bunch of roses. You walked over and Van handed them to you.

"Hi. Thank you," you said. Van smiled and tried to keep his attention on you, but Jett was babbling away to him.

Roses in water, Jett kept away from Van with candy, you left the apartment and followed Van out to his car. Standing at the front passenger door, you waited for him to unlock it. Instead, he came to stand close to you.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," you replied. A calmer exchange of greetings.

"You look amazing,"

"Jett says I look like I'm from T.V.," you said awkwardly. Van smiled.

"Smart kid."

Van leaned in and kissed your cheek. It was slow and he lingered for a second or two. Then, the sound of the car unlocking made you jump. Van laughed, and walked to get into the driver's seat. You shook your head and got in.

…

It was the best date you had ever been on, but you weren't about to tell Van that. He was already smug with the knowledge he had been right from the beginning; you and him were meant to be something. Full of good food and wine, skin warm and glowing, Van drove you home and parked out the front. You looked up at the apartment building, at the light shining from the windows of your home. Inside, your baby boy and best friend would be doing something ridiculous. Pirate sword fights with pop sticks. Clean sheet forts. Cake making with whatever ingredients were around. It made you smile and when you looked back at Van, he was watching with a smile on his face too.

"You all good?" he asked, taking his seatbelt off and getting more comfortable in the seat. You nodded, and did the same. Seatbelt off, you put your back to the door and leant back. Even Van's car felt good and safe.

"Yeah,"

"Did I do okay?"

You looked at him and grinned. "Yeah, Van, you did okay. You're doing okay,"

"Good. That's good. 'Cause I really do like you, you know,"

"Yep. Message received," you replied with a little chuckle. Van grinned.

"So… This is a thing now, yeah?"

You could tell whatever you were about to say would be significant - years in the making type of significant. It would be the start of something for Van. Something sweet and wanted and expected in some way. 

It would be the start of something for Jett. Van would be the first proper dude role model in his life, and while you couldn't think of anyone better to play that part, it was still a scary thing to consider. What if Van fucked up? What if he left? What would that do to Jett? Jett, who already had attached himself to Van. 

And, it would be the start of something for you. The establishment of a life of trust, rather than scepticism and erring on the side of caution. An uncomplicated version of family. Electric moments of happy racing hearts and shaking hands. But, what if…

When you failed to reply, lost in your thoughts, Van spoke again. "Y/N. I… I think… Did… Can I ask you something? And you can tell me to get fucked if it's overstepping. I just, I wanna… I don't know-"

"Ask," you said, interrupting. It was an inevitable question but it demanded to be asked.

"I… I know what happened to Pen. And I know how that changed her… She, ah, she started to go to the group thing at the same time as you appearing… And, um, Jett… and everything. How you are. I just…" He was struggling. Someone as sheltered from the bad as Van didn't even have the language to describe the world in such bad terms.

"You want to know what happened to me?" you suggested.

Van looked at you carefully, read the openness in your expression, then nodded. "Yeah. Did… Same as Pen, yeah? That's why Jett doesn't-"

"Don't!" you cut him off. "Jett… Jett has always had everything he needed,"

"That's not what I meant! I know that. I just meant…" Van's sentence trailed off when he realised he didn't quite know what he meant.

The windows of the car were fogging up. Where your head was pressing into the glass, lines were being drawn in the pattern of your hair. You were still warm, but getting nervous. Van stayed quiet. He'd had the good sense to know there was nothing else he could or should say.

"Yes. The same thing happened. I met Pen at group. I, um…" It didn't matter how many times you said the words, how many times you'd replayed it in your head, every fucking time felt like the first. But Van wasn't asking for details. He wasn't asking for much. You could have asked him why he wanted to know, but you knew the answer. He just wanted to make sure he never said or did anything that would upset you. He wanted to be a part of your life in an honest way.

"It's okay. No, not okay, but like, you don't…" Van took a deep breath in and out. It was possibly one of the most serious conversations he'd ever had. "Is there anything I should do or not do, or anything?"

You shook your head, smiling a little. "No. Nothing you're not already doing… or not doing…"

"Okay, good. Okay. I'm sorry. I should have not… It was probably fucked up to just ask," Van said.

"It would be more fucked up to make assumptions, I think. I don't know. Don't think there is any right way to do any of this…"

Another silence in the car, a pensive and hopeful silence that would be the starting point for understanding and good.

"I had fun tonight," you said.

Van grinned. He couldn't help it. "Yeah? Me too. I feel good around you,"

"I feel good around you too… Maybe this could be a thing."

Van smiled smugly. He didn't want to feel like he'd won, but he did. Not all emotions are easily controlled. He reached out for your hand and you let him take it. Van sat up straight, moved to the edge of his driver's seat. Slowly, dramatically, he reeled you into him by pulling your arm closer and closer to his body. His fingers dragged along your skin, leaving tingling goosebumps in their wake. When you were sitting up too, proximity that you could hear each other's breathing, Van closed the gap between you.

A small, gentle kiss to your jaw. It was a request for permission in motion. When you nudged your head against his, you felt his smile on your cheek, and he kissed your jaw again, a little higher. Then, after years of wondering what he tasted like, Van's lips were on yours and you were kissing him back like you'd never been hurt.

After making out with a boy in a car like you were seventeen years old, you couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. You followed Van up to your apartment, and as you watched his shadow walk across the wall, you wondered how the past three years would have been different if you'd let him love you from the start. Logically, you knew you weren't ready then. Van was a different Van then too. He'd seen the world and learned a thing or two about responsibility and tact. How it all played out was how it was meant to be.

It was well after Jett's bedtime, yet he was wide awake on the couch when you entered your apartment. He was too comfortable under his special blanket to get up and run to your or Van, but he held his arms up for hugs.

"Hi, Mummy," he said, kissing your nose.

"Hey, baby. What are you still doing up?" you asked him, but your eyes flicked to Penelope. She smirked and shrugged.

"Mooooovie," Jett replied. The television was playing My Neighbour Totoro and you understood the battle Penelope would have had to get Jett to bed. He would have screamed, "Cat bus! Cat bus!" She would have sighed and resigned to her fate of getting in trouble for letting him stay up. "Careful Van," Jett said then.

"What's up, buddy?" Van said, sitting down on the couch and pulling Jett into his lap, still bundled up in his blanket. "What's this all about then? What's this giant rabbit thing doing?"

Jett wriggled in Van's arms, getting comfortable. He huffed at Van's lack of Ghibli knowledge. "Totoro," he mumbled.

You and Penelope chuckled and left them to it. Van watched you leave the room, giving you an annoyingly wonderful wink as you went.

In your bedroom, Penelope sat on your bed as you changed into track pants and a t-shirt. When you didn't start the conversation, she snorted and said, "You guys boyfriend and girlfriend now? Getting married? Is Van gonna adopt Jett?"

"Why are you like this?" you replied, looking for your makeup wipes in a drawer of random stuff.

"Will you change your last name? Y/N McCann. Jett McCann. Oh my god. Jett McCann sounds stupid. Sounds like a type of rocket or something. A robot. Fuck. Nah, you gotta keep your name,"

"We're not getting married," you said. You pulled a hoodie on and went to leave the room.

"Y/N?" Penelope asked, her voice suddenly very serious. You looked back at her. "This is real, yeah? You guys are doing this for real?"

You thought for a second even though you didn’t need to. "Yeah. Yeah, we're doing this."


End file.
